


Eyes Always Open

by Red45Roses



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Eating Disorders, God Im bored, M/M, My First Fanfic, On going chapters, Post S4, Pre S5, This Fandom is crushing me, i dont know what im doing, the boys are in a bad place, there will be more
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red45Roses/pseuds/Red45Roses
Summary: Martin and Jon are having a hard time adjusting. Maybe they can be there for each other.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 1
Kudos: 27





	1. Settling In

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic. O boy. Let me know if there are any mistakes (Geez writing is hard) and feel free to message me.

This was new for martin. Years of pining and not only did he now have a boyfriend, but they were moving in together. Of course, everything else was breaking grounds, and getting stronger every minute it was left untouched. The Lonely, his mother, his friends, hell even moving was an untrodden territory. He had lived in two houses his entire life. The first move was after his father left. His mother couldn't seem to get away fast enough from that place. A big townhouse with an even bigger yard. Not that he ever used it or had anyone to use it with. The Second house was much smaller and more in the city. It shared a wall with a different home where sometimes he would hear piano music playing from the other side. He stayed there even after his mother left. Really she was carried away but it felt like every step was her own, like she was manifesting herself a new body for the sole purpose of punishing him. He wishes he could say that the house had felt lonely, in a way it did but really it just felt free if a little strange to get used to. He found himself checking the clock constantly to see if his schedule was being maintained, only to realize that nobody was there to take care of anymore. No meds to be taken, no food to be prepared, no yelling, demanding to be heard. Always demanding something. Maybe that was worse. She was the only connection he had left after he cut everyone else loose. Then it was just Peter that really spoke to him, if ever. For the first time in his entire life, his loneliness started to hurt.

But now he was, against every predisposition, moving in with Jon. In a cottage. Well a cabin really, and it's just the two of them. Together. Alone. This is definitely going to take some getting used to. granted, Jon seems to be into it. Maybe he needs this just as much as Martin feels he himself does. And he definitely does. After crying that first night out of the Lonely things had been...stagnant between them. Jon is giving him space and busying himself with the move checking in but keeping distance. Martin understands he is just trying to help but it just feels awkward. Like they’re ignoring the goliath in the room.

Are they boyfriends now? Should they kiss? Maybe start smaller. Maybe not start at all. Maybe there was no salvaging this. They've been so far from each other for long. Martin doesn't even know if he is right enough at the moment to even try. He certainly doesn't feel right. He feels... he is not sure how he feels but definitely not in the position to form a relationship. 

But then what will he do if he drifts into the lonely. Martin can feel it till. Like it's inside him now. He still feels this emptiness that is borderline sadness and borderline fear whenever he's around people. That’s never happened to him before. Sure he's always been an introvert to an extent. Okay with being alone, but this feels like he wants other people to be alone too. He wants to tell them to start walking in different directions and he wants fire alarms to go off in large buildings just so he can feel it's been cleared out. Not knowing that no one is there, but feel its emptiness. He's even felt the impulse to give a couple the wrong directions when he was in town. He actually paused, but before he could say anything Basira gave them the right directions. Probably thought he was blanking or something. It's not like he's been here long but still What if that keeps happening? What if he actually lures somebody into the lonely as Peter had done? There's just Jon to stop him. Not that he couldn't but that's only one person.

At the moment Jon was inside getting to know the rooms. A conjoined kitchen and living room with a bathroom and bedroom. Two beds of course. Basira was closing up her car as the last of their luggage had been unpacked. She was more than happy to help them move their belongings like she couldn't think of a better idea. The cabin had been unlocked and the windows were all open. God knows how long there hasn't been any airflow in there, but it was still noticeably unlived in. Still, it looked nice in the sun.

"Alright," Basira mused over their sparse packings, "That's everything I think. Are you sure that was all both of you brought?"

Martin was grateful she was here to help them in. Besides the fact that she was given the keys, It seemed to put Job at ease.

"Yah that's about it," 

“It just doesn't seem like all that much,” Martin just shrugged. “And you're sure you both have enough money, and blankets” She pressed. Martin isn't sure why she doesn't just leave. They're fine. He immediately represses the thought.

“Don't worry. we're alright,” he says and takes her goodbye hug.  
"Call me if you need anything," She says into his ear. The hug feels wrong somehow. But it's Basira, so he refuses to pull away first. 

When they do separate she gives him an encouraging smile and then glances back at the cottage. Jon is waiting for them so when he sees that he's been noticed he walks over for his own hug. With a huge smile, Baira grabs him perhaps more forcefully then necessary, and from Jon's face, it's just a bit too tight, like she can force into him her love if she just squeezes tightly enough. Martin tries to enjoy her enthusiasm but it's lost on him. Maybe that’s what they should call it, he thinks, the lost.

Minutes later Jon and Martin are watching Basira’s car disappear down the road. They're standing next to each other and Martin realizes that he should want to hold Jon's hand. Should but doesn't. Instead, he turns around and walks back inside. He needs some lunch. 

Jon trails behind him and takes residence at the table in the kitchen while Martin prepares sandwiches with what little they currently have stocked. They really should go shopping. Not to mention a stock of perishables to put in the closet. Or maybe he shouldn't here. It's hard to picture what he would tell Jon when he inevitably finds out. Or maybe Jon already knows. Of course, it wouldn't be the end of the world. After everything they've been through together, really Martin shouldn't have to think twice about communicating his eating habits. But this was something different. No Entity made him feel this way or was at fault for his circumstance. This was just how he was. No secret stash then.

Martin notices Jon watching him while he thinks. He still is not used to Jon looking so closely at Martin. Like he is trying to read something or is expecting a reaction. He smiled at Jon in what he hoped was encouraging, and Jon looked away. Not meaning to stare then. Martin really should pay closer attention to him. Jon was here for the same reasons he was, they had things to work out and they needed a break from the world.

“How are we feeling today?” Martin tries not to look at him when he says this, tries not to corner him.

“Fine,” Jon shrugged out of the corner of his eye. “This place will certainly give us plenty to do for a bit.”

Martin nods and sits at the table presenting their plates. “It can wait until after lunch,” and he begins to enjoy his food. He is determined. It's good, even though it tastes like ashes, and it should be enjoyed, besides Jon seemed to like it. He should really ask Jon what foods he prefers.

“What about you,” Jons asks, “How are you feeling about all of this?”

“Could you be a little more specific.”

“The move, The Lonely, weird headaches?”

Martin pauses for a moment before shrugging himself. “Honestly I don't know. I'm not really noticing a difference and I'm mostly just tired.” He takes another bite of his sandwich and hopes Jon won't pry. He really is tired and he's not in the mood to try and explain how strange he's feeling. Maybe Jon already knows, a part of Martin thinks, maybe he'll understand.

Jon only sends him a questioning glance before nodding and refocusing on his own food. “You know these are really quite good.”

“Thank you, Jon.” He breathes it out like a sigh and settles into the quiet. This would be normal now. Quite.

They go about their day sticking to this same manner. A few exchanges words but mostly quite working. There are lists to be made of things to be bought, furniture to be cleaned and a home to settle into. Martin finds himself liking the thought of a home here, with Jon. Maybe he should tell him about the feeling of floating that won't go away. Like he's weightless. Of course, he doesn't. He has always been a coward.

That night things stopped being quiet. It was Jons idea to go stargazing. They were out of London now and Martin was surprised by how full the sky was. It had depth like clouds did and when he shared this thought with Jon, he went into a detailed lecture about how it was indeed gas and cloud where stars were born. Martin wasn't surprised that Jon liked astronomy.

The longer Jon went on the less he made sense so Martin was content to let him ramble, while they relaxed into the grass. They were lying on a blanket next to each other on their backs now and the sky was so incredibly big. So vast. He wondered if the universe felt this far away from everywhere in it. There was so much matter, but space made everything feel so small.

“Martin…”

So small he could be consumed by the emptiness. Laying here on his back the sky seemed to be on all sides of him. The longer he stares the more the emptiness seemed to eat up the stars. It eats up everything in the end, doesn't it? The light, the rock and everything in the end. Until he’s all that's left. Why Is he always just left?

“Martin…”

It eats the ground, and the sky and everything but him. Why doesn't it take him?

“Martin!”

With a jolt, he's on the ground again. The sky is blocked by Jons face coming into focus and he looks so afraid. His face is soft and there's the faintest glimmer on his face. Why was he crying?

Jons heaves a choked breath and Martin feels him bury his face in Martin's chest, hugging him fiercely.

“Don't do that!” He cries and heaves a breath of relief that Martin can feel in his entire body. He finds himself breathing heavily too, and Martin realizes that he hasn't been breathing. What a stupid thing to do, he thinks to himself, Why would he do that.

Martin slowly pulls his arm around to cup Jon's head, what else is he supposed to do with his hands, and Jon seems so distressed. He looks back up at the sky. It seems more full than it did just a moment ago, and now there's Jon's body over him, keeping him firmly on the ground.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, his gaze still transfixed on the sky trying to find that emptiness but it escapes him. “I'm sorry.” 

“Tell me when that happens” Jon hisses and sits up a bit. He's holding Martin's face, his eyes searching. Martin reluctantly tears his ze from the sky. “You have to let me know if you feel like you're going away like that, you can't just… I felt...I felt your hands turn to mist Martin, and I cant...You need to let me know when that happens.” His voice is stronger now, and he's looking at Martin with this determination that makes him believe Jon. Of course, he would want to help. Of course, he was worried, that sounded terrifying. So why doesn't Martin feel the panic? He just feels calm, and he lets Jon stare at him waiting for an answer, but he can't bring himself to smile or reassure Jon like he should be doing right now. 

“Sorry,” he says again.

Jon closes his eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. He looks at the sky and then back at Martin still lying on the ground. It's actually rather comfortable. Jon just huffs and rubs his face before offering a hand to help Martin up.

“Let's go to bed, yah?” 

Martin blinks and after a moment takes Jon's hand. On the way inside he thinks he hears Jon mumble “No more stargazing,” to himself. Like he's making a mental list. That's alright, Martin has his own list to add too.

1 Fear


	2. Out and About

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for one-hundred hits! I know compared to most works that's not a lot but I'm over the moon! Let me know how I did, and please enjoy.

Martin was trying not to notice the staring. Really. He knew Jon meant well, just hovering because he cared. But it seemed like every time he turned to look, Jon was staring at him. Not in a creepy way, more like he was waiting for Martin to no longer stay solid. Daring him to disappear. It made the hairs on his arm stand up when he felt Jon's eyes, looking so deeply into him. Martin tried not to notice. He tried because Jon had the decency to look away anytime their eyesight might meet. He tried to go about his morning doing normal daily activities like drinking coffee or enjoying the birds that had appeared to take residence in one of the few trees that surrounded the home. Jon was trying to help and it didn't matter how uncomfortable that made Martin, It was making Jon feel better.

Unfortunately, it didn't matter in the end how much he was trying not to notice. He was very aware of Jon's gaze and he was pretty sure that Jon knew that Martin knew he was being watched, monitored, so really it was just a matter of who would bring it up first. Besides there was always a chance that Jon was doing one of his mind reader tricks and Martin really did not want to be on the receiving end of one of those gazes.

It took Martin until that afternoon before he couldn't stand it any longer. He was at the kitchen table finishing the list of supplies and food that they needed to get in town. Jon was pretending to read a newspaper across from him. Martin was pretty sure that he was being watched again because Jon's eyes weren't moving, and he had never seen Jon even touch a newspaper before. One of the quirky communities about living in such a neighborhood like community was that they got the paper whether they had asked for it or not.

Martin set his pen down and folded his hands. Jon remained as frozen as he had for the last ten minutes. So, Martin waited for Jon to drop the act, start talking. He didn't so it was up to Martin to start the conversation.

“What,” he didn't say it with passive intent. Not accusatory but not with confusion either. He knew, that Jon knew, that he knew, that Jon wanted to say something, Or maybe he wanted to see something, Martin wasn't sure, and he didn't really care.

“Hmm, what?” And finally, he looks up. For someone with who knew so many things, Jon wasn't good at keeping secrets when he wasn't motivated by the death of his friends.

Fine if Jon wanted to dismiss him that was his problem but he didn't get to pretend that everything was fine. Who even reads a newspaper, honestly. In a town this size what could possibly be worth reading? Martin suddenly really wanted Jon to put the damn thing down and say whatever it was he wanted to say, so they could both get on with their lives. Or maybe he wasn't trying to say anything, maybe he was reading Martin and the newspaper was a front. If that was the case then what was he seeing? He shouldn't even be rooting around in there, it was Martin's private business and Jon did not need to see the shit in the back. No one needed to ever think about that again.

“You've been staring at me since last night,” Martin told him flatly.

“Maybe you're just nice to look at,” Jon smiled softly.

Martin blanked for a moment. That was unexpected, and quite frankly wasn't fair. Jon was just changing the subject, nice to look at, what did that even mean. Paintings are nice to look at, Waterfalls are nice to look at, hell even spiders are sometimes nice to look at, and Jon thinks he can just throw that at Martin like he was remarking on the weather, honestly. Martin sighed, picked up his pen, and refocused on his work.

“Don't read my mind, Jon.”

That certainly got his attention. Martin wasn't looking at him anymore, but he could see Jon abruptly lookup.

“I, I'm not,” He said hurriedly, sputtering a bit.

“Then why have you been staring at me all damn morning,” Martin surprised himself with the slight sharpness in his voice.

They were staring at each other at this point and Martin finds himself waiting for Jon to do something. Maybe to get angry at the accusation or to get up and leave. He doesn't though. His face just softens and he sighs before saying

“I'm just worried is all. I...It's not like I'm meaning to look, I'm not looking. I wouldn't do that to you, you just..”

Why wouldn't Jon take a peak? The curiosity must be killing him and there wasn't anyone else around to look inside. He could look for as long as he wanted and Martin wouldn't even know. And what if he did know? What if Jon splayed his mind out like an open book, wide open, and Martin knew he was doing it. What would Martin do then? Where would he go if that happened and it kept happening? Martin already knew he wasn't strong enough when it came to these things. So many relationships like that had made Martin certain that if that happened, there was no way he could say no. Not to Jon. There would be no escape if it got that bad. He would just let himself be sucked dry and that really wouldn't be fair.

“It's like the bed of a pod,” He says avoiding Martins eyes that have taken root on his face, “even if I'm not stepping in, I can still see the bed of it get disturbed by the water.”

“I'm not a lake John.”

“No I know, and I'm not trying to but you're just so...quiet.”

“Well sorry if I'm not much for conversation.'' Martin gets up. He wants to do something else now, to leave. He's around the table before Jon grabs at his hand.

“Wait, no, I mean your presence, I'm having a hard time hearing your presence.”

“What does it matter? You shouldn't be anywhere near my, my me.”

“No, I know I'm just…”

“Worried about me.” Martin finishes.

Jon bit his lip. It's so strange seeing him at a loss for words. This hovering fear doesn't fit him.

“Well I've spent the last two years worried about you, and just about everyone else in my life, so the least you can do is settle down and bear it like the rest of us.” Jon looks stunned at this. Martin knew exactly what he had said and how guilty Jon still feels, and he had said it anyway. Why did he say that?

“I'm sorry. You have a right to be angry. I'll try to stop.” He holds Martins hand more carefully now that he isn't trying to pull away. When he says this he focuses on Martin's hand like it's the thing he's apologizing to it. 

But Martin isn't angry. He just wanted to be left alone.

1 Fear  
2 Anger

On the bright side, Martin had gotten his wish for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, It was obvious that Jons feelings had been hurt. He had tried to hide it but it was obvious to Martin, if not for the practice of hiding his own hurt, then it was when he walked past the closed bathroom door and heard Jon talking aloud to himself softly. Something about the illusion of self, or choices, or something like that. Martin didn't want to hear him monologuing so he went to sleep, well, too bed. Martin was having a hard time sleeping these days. He went through the motions anyway because even pretending tended to help on some level.

Martin, of course, wanted to sleep. He really did. And since they were in the same room, he could tell that Jon was having the same problem. It wasn't like it was hard to tell what with the all-consuming silence that tended to transmit breathing rhythm, but then there was also this knowing. He felt that the cabin had exactly two people inside. Two awake, thinking people. No, not knowing, but feeling that someone else was so close. They'd been pretending for the last few nights, neither wanting to relent and admit that rest would not greet them. Not to say that there weren't moments that he drifted into sleep, but he could hardly call it anything other than several consecutive catnaps.

And so the sun rose and they pretended to wake up. Martin stood up first and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. They really did need more food. Jon came in a short while later and sat down silently. 

“I thought we should go into town today,” Jon mentions.

“Fine by me. We have some shopping to do,” He can feel Jon looking at him again. He cast his eyes away as soon as Martin turned. Martin should probably apologize.

“Sorry about yesterday,” He says quickly. A short and clean apology, good.

Jon lets him sit down before answering. “I'm also sorry. I shouldn't be looking or knowing more accurately. I'm worried.”

“Huh, I thought I was the worrywart.”

Jon didn't seem impressed “You shouldn't have to be.”

There's a silence between them for a moment before Job starts again.

“You know I wouldn't read your mind, right? You knew I wouldn't do that to you.”

“I knew.”

“Because you didn't seem convinced yest…”

“It fine Jon, just leave it.”

Jon, still sitting, pulls him a step closer so they can face each other.

“I think we should get you around more people, maybe that would help.” He mused, much more lightly than the previous jittery time he had.

“I don't really want to,” Martin finds himself softly saying. He hadn't even considered the thought until it was out of his mouth. Still, he knew it to be true.

Jon leaned forward a bit. The proximity evoked the uncomfortable restless sensation again, only this time Martin actively ignored it. They'd only recently started being this close with each other regularly, and Martin was going to enjoy it goddamn it! 

Jon laughed but it comes out more as a rueful huff.“ And you don't think that that is something to be a little concerned about? Why on Earth not?”

Martin is looking at their intertwined hands. In truth, he had no reason to not want to go. This seemed like something he would be excited about. “I just don't want to,” He murmurs. 

Jon sighs and squeezes his hand before letting go. The wrong answer then. Still, he supposed, it was better than yelling or worse, the silence.

“No, it's fine,” Jon says and breathes deeply, his eyes dart around for a moment as if in thought., “It's okay we just, we need to get you around people.” He gets up and moves to the bedroom.

“What, right now!” Martin calls after him.

“Yes now! Get dressed!” 

Right. Right, he can do that. Job hasn't given up on him, so the least he could do is make the effort. Martin hardly puts both of their dishes in the sink, then he goes for his coat. He can go out, he tells himself, he can go out to town with Jon. He could do that.

The day was slightly cloudier than yesterday had been, but not unpleasant. Contrary to popular belief Martin liked cloudy days. They meant he could bundle up. Not that he had a problem with the cold but the more layers he had the safer he felt. Less exposed, less outlined.

What little wind there was blew at Jon's hair until it was tamed into a ponytail. Together they walked down the hill and into town. Martin noticed that John left his hands at his sides, instead of in his pockets. That's for me, thought Martin, He's getting his hands cold for me. Jon was wearing gloves but they looked terribly thin. Martin doesn't take his hand, too focused on the layers of whatever didn't want him in town pushing him away in waves. Jon was probably right, no surprise there, that Martin needed to be around people.

'Town' was in reality just three streets of a village that housed most of the shops that were surrounded by farms. Of course, being so centralized and local, that meant fairly occupied streets. Martin realized he desperately didn't want to be there.

The closer they got into town the more antsy Martin became until finally, he did take Jons swinging hand. Jon didn't say anything, only occasionally pointing out a bakery or Bookstore, or whatever else they came across. Jon acted familiar with the place like he had been there before. Probably another side effect of The Eye. Maybe Martin would develop something useful if this didn't go away. He would have even enjoyed taking in the sights if it weren't for all of the people.

They were just normal people doing normal people things, but Martin couldn't bring himself to not feel slightly panicked. He was squeezing Jon's hand in a way that probably hurt, and he was starting to feel a little light-headed. But he couldn't relax. There were just the people, and every noise they made, and every time they got too close. He just couldn't take it, he needed to leave. Martin found himself walking faster and leading Jon away. He wasn't sure where to but he needed to get out of the street. Just away.

“Martin!” Jon was calling him but he was mostly focusing on not passing out. This was ridiculous! He was just outside, for God's sake it wasn't even an average-sized crowd!

Jon seemed to realize what Martin was trying to do because he quickly took the lead to what was probably the first open building he saw. Before Martin realized what was happening he was set into a booth in the corner of a sparsely populated cafe. Jon was looking at him again, but with the worry, there was a determination in his eyes. Like he knew exactly what would happen next and he was making sure that Martin followed the script. He had no idea what the script was but it was like he was watching himself panic. He was aware of what was around him so he decided to just let his bodywork through what it needed to. 

Jon was holding his hand more tightly now and he was probably saying something, but Martin didn't have the energy to think about what it was. He was mostly trying to get his hands to stop shaking. It took a few minutes but eventually, Martin felt calm again. His breathing evened out and he was once again very aware of Jon’s proximity. The difference was that Jon had security in the uncomfortable, that Martin was willing to sit closely for.  
“Better now?” Asked Jon, and Martin was happy to say he only jumped slightly.

“Yes I'm alright now, thank you.” Martin breathes it out in relief. It was warmer in here, He hadn't even noticed that he was cold.

“I'm going to go get us some drinks. Will you be okay for a minute?” 

“Yes.”Jon searched his face for a moment before disappearing.

He keeps Martin in his sights the whole five minutes it takes to return with just as quick a stride, before placing a drink in front of Martin.

“Camomile,” He says when Martin raises an eyebrow, and Jon starts sipping his drink. Martin doesn't have the heart to tell him that he hated chamomile. So used to drinking it because that was what his mother seemed to be least angered by. He shook himself slightly because that thought wouldn't go anywhere good.

They sit silently like that for a while, neither wanting to break the peace, A few patrons filter in and out and Jon is a quarter way through his drink before he starts speaking.

“I know this is difficult. And I know you're feeling scared right now. But we can get through this. I'm right here for you.” He takes Martin's hand and Martin is more than happy to let him. Happy to let himself melt into this moment with Jon. “What happened Martin?”

He's so pleading when he asks. Like he's afraid the question will pain Martin. Like if he squeezes too hard then Martin will evaporate beneath his fingers. Martin wonders how many people have disappeared for Jon, and Martin remembers that Jon never talks about his family.

Martin takes a deep breath before starting very plainly, “I don't want to be here Jon, not in town.” He doesn't look at him when he says this. He doesn't know if he has the strength to hold his ground if Jon pushes.

Thankfully, Jon doesn't. He pauses, absorbing the information before nodding. “I thought something like this might happen and I'm so sorry that it did. But I think being with people is what you need right now,” Jon must have noticed the pained look that crossed Martin's face because he quickly continued, “We can go home soon and we can start small, but seriously Martin this has to be dealt with.” Always the archivist it seemed. Always so eager to organize.

“I do want to get better,” Martin finally speaks, “But there's this emptiness that just lives inside of me now. It does not like crowds, it would seem.”

“Then we will drive it out.” 

Martin was momentarily surprised at the intensity in Jon's face. He looks angry for a second before Jon's eyes slide back to Martin's face. He smiles reassuringly, and he's closer now, in a place where anyone else would feel awkward. 

“I know a thing or two about unwanted visitors. This is a new role for me but it is okay to let people take care of you.”

“It doesn't feel that way,”

“Then how does it feel?” Jon hums.

“It makes me feel like I don't actually know. Just weird I guess.”

“Weird because you've never had such a wonderful roommate?” and Martin huffed at that, which Jon seems happy with.

“No, it's, weird because I feel utterly unproductive.” Martin pulls his hands away and shoves them under the table. “I don't trust myself to be alone, but I so desperately want to be. It's like I'm in somebody else's limbo.”

“Hey wait a minute,” Jon shifts so that he’s next to Martin, and he finds himself leaning into the warm. He was bigger than Jon but right now he felt covered. He can't remember the last time he'd been held like this. Well, he can but that didn't count. It wasn't real in the way he was fairly certain this was. “You don't want to be alone, you don't. I know that you think you do and that the need feels so real, but it's not. I'm not leaving you to disappear.”

Martin closed his eyes and could imagine that they were back at the cabin. Or better yet that they were alone on a beach. He rested his head on Jon's shoulder and for the first time in while he let himself be held. His skin still crawled but it was dampened, and very much worth it.

“Thank you, Jon.”


End file.
